


A Silent Morning

by MoonCigar



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff, M/M, Nudity, Temperature Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 09:17:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9228485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonCigar/pseuds/MoonCigar
Summary: Quiet mornings are sometimes nice.





	1. Drizzle

**Author's Note:**

> My gift to forkee for Secret Santa!

It had been raining earlier that day out on the boat and sadly, daily chores just couldn't wait. Letting Stanley sleep a few extra hours, Ford grabbed his jacket from the hook and ventured out. It wasn't even twenty minutes until Ford was soaked through. 

Entering the cabin after looking more like a drowned cat than a twelve PHDs scientist. He made his way to the bunk, leaving a trail of wet clothes and puddles behind him. 

First the coat.

Splat.

Then the boots with built in socks. It saved time.

Thunk. Thunk. 

The pants, damp briefs included.

Ziiip. Flup.

Finally, the beast itself. Ford's red, turtleneck sweater. Out of all the new equipment they had gotten for the boat, Ford refused to leave the sweater. It was essentially, the only item of clothing that he didn't personally alter himself. Stan never questioned it, he himself a sole believer of “If it ain't broke, don't fix it.”

Normally, removing this specific item would be a breeze. But wool could soak up water like a sponge. The read yarn clinging to him like a vice. Ford found himself wrestling with the damn thing. Finding that collar extra difficult. 

Ford flashed back to when Stanley and him went clothe shopping. Ford couldn't hold in his laughter as he saw his brother attempt to take off a shirt too small for him. Now, with this red serpent wrapped around his head, knew how Stanley felt.

“Having a little trouble there Sixer?” An amused chuckle could be heard from the other side of the cabin. 

“Oh my, looks like you've shrunk in the wash.” Stan teased. 

He helps him out of the sweater, and forces him under the covers to warm up.  
Stan is wearing a wife beater and boxers.

Kisses and nuzzles his shoulder. 

“Hey, hey sixer.” Stan comes in for a kiss.

Stan comes in to kiss him on the mouth and Ford complains no. pushing him away 

“I don't want to smell your rancid morning breath!!”

“AHH, CAHM AHN!” Stanley taunts. “Cahm ova here and gehve ya bratha a smouch!”

“You are the most aggravating-mpphh” Lips meet as Ford scrunches his face, dreading the eventual taste of morning breath....Only to find the cooling taste of menthol and mint. 

They pull back, and Stanley's shit eating grin is all Ford can see. 

“How long as you been up?”

“On and off since you go up.” Stanley replied innocently. 

“You have been up for hours and didn't think to help me with this mornings chores?”

“You seemed to have a handle on it.”

“Lazy-”

Stan drapes over him with a hmmmmm. “Let me make it up to you then.”

His hands trailed up to his brother's chest. Brushing against hard nipples. Ford gave a huff.

“One of these days, this isn't going to work on me-”

“But today isn't one of those days?” Stanley teased. 

The echoes of Stan's laughter could be heard as Ford tackled him into the bed.


	2. Cool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter involves mild temperature play. No actual intercourse but still quite adult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had sudden inspiration to write a second part to this piece. I hope you enjoy!

“God, you're fucking freezing.” Stanley complained. He was laying on top of his brother while the other was laying back on the bed. Just moments ago, Stan watched the nerd fight out of a sweater with his dick hanging out. He tucked that little memory away to relive later, probably after they have a fight. 

“I've been out for hours, what did you think was going to happen?” Ford muttered as he tried his best to bring feeling back into his hands. His skin clammy and cold, similar to toweling off after taking a swim. 

Ford skates his hands over Stan's biceps, taking advantage of his brother's extra warm heat. Watching as the touch erupted a shiver from him partner.

“God, it's like I'm having foreplay with a human icicle!”

“That is physically impossible given the circumstances-however I do believe if it were-”

“Nuh-uh” Stanley interrupts. “We've talked about this Sixer, no nerd talk in the bunker. The bunker is used for-”

“-Sleeping and “sexy-times” I know I know.” Ford waves off. “But, if you think of the logistics of it all,-”

“Stanford.”

“The ways of creating and actual human icicle is actually quite complex-”

“-Stanford.”

“-It's nothing like when Rose and Jack were in the water. By the way, I don't know why everyone was so confused on whether she could bring Jack on board or not, the math is quite simple-”

“I regret showing you anything ever.” Stan deadpans, as he watches his brother entertain himself with his own ramblings. Deep down, very very deep into his core, Stan probably deserved this. He was not going to waste a perfectly good morning on whether Rose could have gotten the poor bastard on the raft. 

A light bulb went off in his head. With a sly smirk, Stan inches away from his distracted sibling. Making his way down the others body towards his lap.

Ford, completely forgetting the bunker rules, kept going with his theories. “If you think about the mass and materials made in that time era, you can easily see that Rose could-EEP!!!”

The cool skin of his cock was engulfed into a fiery furnace, bringing more surprise than pleasure. The shock of heat brought Ford right out of his tangent. His arms shooting out to grip Stan's hairy shoulders. 

“FUCK STANLeY!”

Bright eyes looked up at him smugly. Stanley gave a a long languid lick up his shaft. Leaving the member half hard and twitching. “Shit you are still cold.”

“What in the blazes was that?!” His body was still pulsing from the intense feeling of heat. Logically, he knew that his extremities were not literally on fire, but it could have fooled him. 

Giving his best mock of sincerity, Stanley starts, “While you were talking about Titanic, I'd thought I help this little guy out.” His eyes knit up, and his lips come to dramatic act of worry. “He was cold and alone Stanford, not a friend in the world, how could you be so cruel?”

“My penis does not have feelings Stanley.”

Stan gave a gasp of disgust, he brought both his hands down as if to cover the penis' ears. “How could you say such a thing!” Gently cupping Ford's balls he cooed, “Don't you listen to him...”

“Why do you do this to me.” Ford could feel the heat creeping up his neck. Stanley could be so embarrassing sometimes. 

Stanley gives a huff and a smile, finally breaking out of his bit. Leaning forward to give Stanford a kiss. His lips a searing heat against Ford's thawing lips, five a clock shadow scratching his upper lip. It was hot and heavy, and warmed Stanford's body to the core. 

They part and all Ford and hear is the roar of their heavy breathing. With a smile Stan bumps his forehead against his. “Consider it a penalty for breaking bunker rules.”


End file.
